


The Newcomer

by The_Arkadian



Series: The Muses [3]
Category: Der Teufelsgeiger | The Devil's Violinist (2013), Dragon Age II, Elisabeth (Színház), Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Crack, Crack Crossover, Gen, THANKFULLY, absolutely no glowing elf cock, all in the author's head, no porn though, things are getting crowded in here, unashamed crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:40:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3250034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Arkadian/pseuds/The_Arkadian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The author's latest obsession grows frustrated with the author's writer's block - and meets all the other muses....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Newcomer

Tybalt paced restlessly, cradling his gloved right hand to his chest as he frowned. The room wasn’t really large enough to pace properly in; his long legs ate up the feet of carpet and then he was forced to turn on one heel as he reached the window.

“I don’t have time for this,” he growled, tossing his raven-dark hair out of his eyes as he spun round and glared at the other occupants of the room. “How can you just sit there so complacently?”

“Relax,” replied the lanky blond in the feathered coat who sprawled in a chair by the unlit fire, toying with the ginger tabby perched upon his knee that was batting at the slender fingers dangled tantalisingly just out of reach. The blond smiled ruefully. “This happens from time to time. It’s only temporary, trust me - it’ll be business as usual soon enough.”

“And you are?” said Tybalt testily.

“Anders, apostate mage at your service!” grinned Anders. “I feel I ought to get up and bow but, well, cat.” He gestured at the tabby which ignored Tybalt. 

There was a rustle of newspaper and then the room’s other occupant glanced over at them both. “Ah. The latest little obsession. Do try and keep the angst to a minimum won’t you, there’s a good chap. Help yourself to tea and cookies.” He looked down his aquiline nose at Tybalt not unkindly, his grey eyes faintly sympathetic. “You’ll get used to this soon enough I dare say. Just be thankful you’re not Paganini.” He held out a hand. “Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective.”

Tybalt stared at the outheld hand distrustfully, holding his gloved hand close against his chest. Holmes shrugged and straightened out his newspaper.

“He still sulking?” asked Anders as he rolled his eyes.

Holmes sighed. “Italians,” he shook his head. “The maestro is... indisposed. With the last of my seven percent solution I believe.”

The door was abruptly wrenched open and a blond man dressed in red leather burst into the room. “Anders, you will not believe -” He halted as he stared at Tybalt. “Another one? You look rather like that Death person I just ran into in the library!” His light tenor was heavy with a French accent.

“Tybalt, meet Tybalt,” said Anders as he set the cat aside and got to his feet.

“Another one?” exclaimed the blond Tybalt.

“Wait - there are two of us?” stammered the dark-haired Tybalt as he stared wildly from the other Tybalt - who was much shorter than he was - to Holmes then to Anders. His head was whirling; he felt dizzy.

“Three actually,” replied Anders. “The other one is - well.” He glanced over at the blond Tybalt. “I’m not sure how you’d describe Takarazuka Tybalt?”

“Curvy in interesting places,” grinned French Tybalt.

“You didn’t...!” exclaimed Anders.

“Of course he did,” replied Holmes as he rose from his chair and stepped forward. “Enough of this chit-chat; I think our newest companion is quite unwell.” He caught the Hungarian Tybalt just as his eyes rolled back and he began to collapse to the floor, his body convulsing limply. “Anders?”

“So, who gets to break it to him that he’s a character in a fanfic now?” asked French Tybalt as the blond apostate dropped down to his knees next to the unconscious man whose body spasmed in the throes of a seizure.

Holmes shook his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The Author’s head was becoming rather crowded.


End file.
